Spring Awakening 100 Prompts
by Yorke0593
Summary: SPRING AWAKENING: 100 Random words, 100 Random chapters, 100 Stories to tell. Rating varies by chapter along with characters, pairings, and time frame.
1. Prompts List

-1**Spring Awakening 100 Prompts**

001. Love

002. Hate

003. Cold

004. Hot

005. Pain

006. Relief

007. Sorrow

008. Joy

009. Grief

010. Heal

011. Dry

012. Wet

013. Doldrums

014. Wind

015. Forward

016. Behind

017. Hymn

018. Innocent

019. Guilty

020. Excess

021. None

022. Reflect

023. Dark

024. Light

025. Pictures

026. Words

027. Seconds

028. Minutes

029. Hours

030. Days

031. Months

032. Years

033. Looking

034. Found

035. Worst

036. Best

037. Stable

038. Fall

039. Morning

040. Night

041. Forever

042. Fleeting

043. Truth

044. False

045. Heavy

046. Soft

047. Rough

048. Opaque

049. Clear

050. Big

051. Small

052. Sparks

053. Suffer

054. Apple

055. Cloth

056. Skin

057. Rule

058. Freedom

059. Schedule

060. Save

061. Risk

062. Question

063. Answer

064. Animation

065. Dull

066. Continue

067. Stop

068. Sharp

069. Tangible

070. Figurative

071. Presence

072. Absence

073. Moving

074. Still

075. Accusation

076. Excuse

077. Spinning

078. Shining

079. Sparkling

080. Gazing

081. Thinking

082. Experience

083. Risk

084. Pleasure

085. Burdon

086. Cycle

087. Start

088. End

089. Depth

090. Shallow

091. Relation

092. Incomparable

093. Poison

094. Antidote

095. Patience

096. Time

097. Back

098. Memory

099. Forget

100. Complete


	2. 052 Sparks

-1Story by: Kassie King

Prompt: 052. Sparks

Characters: Melchior, Moritz, Boys Class, Teacher

Pairing: None

Rated: PG or K+

Melchior Gabor had always been daring, he was the one who was known to throw caution to the wind. As a child his parents thought this was cute, his mother used to say she had her own, "Little Daredevil," but neither Frau Gabor or Herr Gabor could have predicted the boy that would result from this recklessness. Melchior had little sense of authority and took little heed from the rules.

As a ten-year-old in school Melchior was always trying to prove his teacher wrong. He would constantly make corrections on the teacher's grammar or methods, which got him stern looks and letters home, but this only encouraged him more.

All of the boys in class were nervous to be around Melchior, he had a reputation for a reason and they knew that those who associated themselves with danger paid the price. This didn't affect Melchior as some might think. He was smart and made friends with the characters in his books, besides they were far more interesting than any child of his age.

Sitting in school one day, Melchior once again noticed the slightest error in the pronunciation of a teacher's Latin. And being Melchior, he pointed it out to the man. Melchior had never been beaten before, mostly out of sheer luck, but then and there he was almost positive that beating would be the outcome.

"Herr Gabor stand up," his teacher commanded quietly, but in a tone that was quite terrifying to a ten-year-old. The teacher continued, once Melchior was out of his seat. "Everyday you walk into my classroom with a mission to prove me wrong, one-up me if you will. This is a common goal, I've seen it from many students before you and I will see it from many students after you, so therefore I will teach you in the same way I teach every one of them." Melchior stared hard at the old man, who had the slightest look of malice in his eyes.

"Come forth," his teacher commanded and Melchior promptly moved, showing no signs of fear. Even as a ten-year-old he knew fear would translate to weakness in another's eyes. His teacher turned around towards the fire that was burning, keeping them all warm through the winter. He took the small shovel, used for fires and removed a few pieces of burning ash.

"Take off your shoes, Herr Gabor," he told Melchior strictly once again. Melchior now knew what his punishment would be. He took off his shoes and quickly, not missing a beat, his teacher tossed the burning ash onto Melchior's bare feet.

The pain was strong, and unrelenting, but Melchior did not show it. Water sprang to his eyes, but no harm was done to him, the fire had merely stung.

"Moritz," the teacher yelled louder to the boy who sat directly to the left of Melchior. He was a nervous boy, who often dozed off or was confused. He sprang to his feet. "Go fill this bucket with water from the stream outside," the teacher told him. Moritz grabbed the wooden paneled bucket and ran out the door.

"Herr Gabor, let this be a lesson to you, and anyone else in this classroom who believes himself greater than I. Your times will come, or they won't, that's not my call to make, but now is none of your times to be disobedient, it is the time for you to learn and the only way for you to do that is to pay attention and behave. Herr Gabor I trust you will silence for at least some time now. You may all go to lunch." The teacher finished his lecture.

The boys grabbed their pails of food and left the classroom without another word. Their teacher also left, leaving Melchior standing alone in the room. As soon as he was sure everyone was gone, he collapsed to the ground, to take care of his feet. He could see the blisters begin to grow and there was still a great amount of pain.

Melchior, however, had forgotten all about Moritz, who had run to fetch him water. When Moritz entered the room he saw Melchior there on the ground tending to his injuries. Moritz came to him with the water. Although surprised, Melchior was grateful.

"Thank you," he said incredibly sincerely to the scrawny boy.

"No problem," he said to his shoes as opposed to Melchior. "I just wanted to say... that I think you're really brave for not crying, I would have. I wish that I could have that confidence..." Moritz muttered.

"Well, look what confidence gets you; blisters and scars, but thank you Moritz, for the water," Melchior's tone was bitter.

"But don't you see? You only got punished because he was scared of you. He didn't want you to be right. I'm never right, but you were, that's lucky."

"At least someone thinks so."

"I do, I really do. Do you remember that Bible quote, 'For man is born for trouble, as sparks fly upward'?"

"If you haven't noticed, Moritz, I'm not the biggest advocate of the Bible," he sighed.

"It reminds me of you, you were born for trouble, and like the sparks that just hit your foot, they fly upward, meaning you don't recognize them or care."

"I'm not sure that's how its supposed to be interpreted."

"Oh." Moritz, picked at his shoes and hung his head.

"But I like your interpretation too." Melchior said encouraging him.

"Yeah?" the hopefulness in Moritz's voice was poorly covered.

"Yeah."

And just like that a friendship was born. It really was inevitable. After all, Moritz was man and he was born for trouble such as Melchior, just as the sparks flew upward.

**A/N**

**When I originally thought of the word sparks I thought of romance, but then I remembered John Green's website/email/everything else- sparksflyupward and even though I'm not Christian, I've read the Bible and recognized the quote and thought it fit nicely here.**


	3. 080 Gazing

-1Prompt: 080. Gazing

Characters: Hanschen, Ernst, Boys Class, Teacher

Pairing: Ernst/Hanschen

Rated: PG-13 or T

In Ernst's opinion there were two types of people in the world, those that gazed and those that peeked. Sadly, he fell into the second category. All the classification really meant was the difference between those who had the confidence to gaze at something without fear of embarrassment and those that lacked confidence, who could only take the slightest glimpse.

Hanschen didn't see the point in peeking. He figured that small tastes of what you wanted weren't worth it, therefore he gazed. In fact, he gazed at Ernst. At first, this made complete sense to Hanschen, it was fun to watch the small boy squirm under his look, but somewhere along the line something changed. Instead, it became a greater pleasure to be gazing at Ernst.

After all, Ernst was quite an interesting person. He had dark hair that was always trimmed perfectly, brown eyes that were over-cautious, and delicate positions and actions that intrigued Hanschen. Ernst had these little mannerisms, like biting his bottom lip or pulling his knees up to his chest. These were the kinds of things that Hanschen began to notice while gazing at Ernst and he knew he couldn't have seen them if he was merely glancing.

Ernst was also the kind of person that was extremely aware of their surroundings. Sitting in the classroom he could tell if someone turned their head slightly towards him or muttered under their breath. So, of course Ernst knew that Hanschen stared at him, but what could he do about it? It did make him rather uncomfortable because at times it didn't seem like Hanschen was merely looking at him at all. It sort of felt like he was... imagining things or not paying attention, but these were not the sorts of things that Ernst could easily bring up.

Days went by this way; Hanschen staring, Ernst being aware of his staring, and neither of them acknowledging it. At some point, though that point was undefined, other boys became aware of the staring. Melchior was the first to notice something, he generally was. Ernst thought that the other children's knowledge would make Hanschen stop, but he did not. At lunch, it was unusual if Ernst didn't feel a pair of eyes boring into his back.

On a day in mid-December, the two boys found themselves in their schoolroom nearly alone. Apart from their teacher, Georg, and themselves, everyone was absent. Every year had days like this, it was cold season and most everyone was sick in town let alone the school.

The day began, same as always; Latin, Algebra, History. Then they were released for lunch. Georg stayed inside so that he could play the piano that their classroom had on the back wall. Ernst and Hanschen went outside. They were silent as they sat down, although the atmosphere was extremely uncomfortable for Ernst he tried his best to stay still and remain unaffected.

"You stare at me," he stated to Hanschen, while picking at his corned beef sandwich.

"Yes." It was a simple statement.

"Why?" Ernst wasn't rude, but wasn't merely curious either.

"Because I want to."

"To make me uncomfortable?" he accused, assuming that there could only be reasons like this for Hanschen to be staring at, well, someone like himself.

"Not any more."

"To make me nervous?"

"No." Hanschen's answers were sharp and deliberate.

"Then why?" Ernst's anxiousness and exasperation gave away his rather desperate need to know.

"The better question is why does it make you uncomfortable?" There was a slight smirk upon Hanschen's lips and a glint in his eye. He leaned the slightest bit forward.

"It would make anyone uncomfortable." Ernst's defense was weak and he knew it.

"Not me."

"But that's different Hanschen. Just please..." His tone changed to pleading and nervous.

"Do you wish for me to stop?"

No, Ernst did not. Because the truth was that when Hanschen gazed at Ernst he felt like the only person in the world. True, it was awkward to be surrounded by their classmates and yes, of course Hanschen was intimidating, but Ernst enjoyed having Hanschen's full attention, if only for a while.

However, Ernst remained silent.

"No, you don't. So what do you wish for?" Hanschen moved within inches of Ernst, his voice low, but light.

"I wish to finish my Latin," he defended leaning backwards, but unable to escape from Hanschen's advances.

"Eo orbis terrarum intus meus labiae. EGO sum iens obtero vos. Tactus mihi." Hanschen's Latin was perfect, but Ernst did not understand.

"I don't know what you mean," Ernst's voice was panicked now. Hanschen was getting closer and for some reason, he felt more than fear.

"Look it up," Hanschen muttered closing the distance between Ernst and himself.

**A/N**

**God, I love writing these two. It's just so much FUN. I hope you like that chapter, it's a little bit easier to digest than the last one.**


	4. 066 Continue

-1Story by: Kassie King

Prompt: 066. Continue

Characters: Wendla, mentions of Melchior and Moritz

Pairing: Sort of Wendla/Melchior

I worry for him sometimes. I worry that he won't recover properly. Melchior Gabor was the greatest boy I ever knew and he did not deserve his fate. In fact we were all too young, far too young to deal with what went on that year. It just goes to show that what's hidden will not set us free, it winds us closer, trapping us, until we will do anything to escape.

As teenagers we move quickly, dancing around each other, always keeping one thought on God and things bigger than us. We have rules we must follow, it's just how things are, so when Melchior approached me that night I did not know how to react.

I felt sad for causing the trouble that I did, he didn't need to blame himself for the pain that I brought on. I thought that if I made him feel better then I could forgive myself. He was a stunning picture as well, with dark curls and eyes so light they looked like the sky on Sunday mornings.

He was exactly my opposite. He was a dreamer, Melchior had plans and emotions greater than what I knew. I had never known what it was like to have such 'radical' thoughts, as Thea put it. Even flipping through his journal showed a side of Melchior that didn't meet the eye. Though kind, he was angry and so progressive, it was much too fast for me.

But then again there has always been something about the unknown that draws us in. I was interested in learning who Melchior Gabor really was, not just the boy I grew up and played pirates with, but who he had grown to be.

So without thinking I did something that the Lord had labeled 'sin'. I committed an act which would shame my parents and myself. I didn't know what was happening, but Melchior had. He knew what he was doing and what the consequences were. And even with all that, I still do not blame him.

I do not know what sparked my attraction to Melchior. I do not believe that we'd known each other to such an extent to call it love, but I will never know what could have been there. I am aware that he liked me for my beauty, as mother said would happen, but that does not make him any less in my eyes.

And for him to have to live through all of this is unbearable. Losing Moritz, his best friend in the world should have destroyed him, but he somehow managed to push through. Now, though, what does he have to live for?

Do you ever have a thought, just for a fraction of a second that is completely awful? I mean so bad that you should be sent straight to hell for ever letting it enter your mind. Well, I shall confess my worst thought. For the shortest time possible, I considered that it might be better for Melchior to die.

It's not because I think he deserves punishment for what he did to me, that's not it. All has been forgiven between him and I. My worst thought sparked because his crossover wouldn't be as painful as mine. I left behind my world when I passed; my friends, family, and more importantly Melchior. When Melchior crosses he won't be losing as much as he's gaining; Moritz and I.

But this is still a terrible thought even if I had reasoning because that boy has so much potential. Melchior can change the world, I truly believe that. He's so much more advanced than we all are. In fact I feel lucky for ever gracing his presence. For a fraction of his life he called me 'his'. I bore his first child, I had some impact on the great man he is sure to become.

Still, there's a hollowness in his eyes now and a pain that doesn't go away. He cannot forget, he cakes himself in the memories of the last year. He crumbles himself down.

Yes, Melchior has his sorrow and his heartache, but that is for now. He is still young, he has so much more to see, to be. He can overcome it, I know it.

If there's one thing I have faith in it's that Melchior Gabor will continue to be.

**A/N**

**I'm not sure how I feel about this because I'm not sure if I used the prompt to it's full potential and I'm not sure how I feel about Wendla. I really hope I didn't switch tense, I just have a feeling that this is not my best work, sorry for posting something I'm uncomfortable with- I usually edit until I can recite my pieces.**


	5. 099 Forget

-1Prompt: 099 Forget

Characters: Ilse, Moritz

Pairing: Sort of Ilse/Moritz, sort of not

Rating: PG or K+

As the leaves fall and the wind howls things are forgotten. The seasons unfold leaving only glimpses of what used to be. It is simply nature and it is the way things have always been. People tell stories and they change over time, morphing to each imagination, each perception. Moments are fleeting, they fly by like Blue Wind. You have to grab on to what you have when you have it.

And then bury it in the dust.

Ilse knows that forgetting is the only way to get by, to move forward. If she didn't forget her grief, sorrow would over come her. It would wash over her and drown her. Ilse knows not to think of them. She knows to keep her distance. She is the ultimate avoider and therefore one of the happiest people alive.

After all the key to happiness is to not care.

Bad things happen, she's learned this if anything from her years on earth. It's only the people who try to avoid bad things who get hurt. Ilse knows to let them come. You can get over anything with a little memory loss.

So she forgets.

She forgets the force of her father's fist across her face.

She forgets the cold gun against her breast.

She forgets the days of pirates.

And then she sees his face and she remembers.

In his warm naive eyes there is something there that makes Ilse desperate to remember. It makes her hungry to recall every one of her experiences good or bad. It makes her disregard the consequences of memory and allows her to open herself up.

It's something hidden in Moritz Stiefel's eyes that allow her to open up her heart and be whole. He makes her forgive herself for everything she's done wrong and makes her feel like there is a future to move on towards.

But he refuses to stay and keep that light on. So she walks away. And as she walks away and hears the shot from his gun she realizes something very important.

That Moritz was and will forever be her Blue Wind.

And that makes her smile just a little bit.


	6. 068 Sharp

-1Prompt: 068 Sharp

Characters: Georg, Anna

Pairing: Kind of Georg/Anna if you squint, but not really

Rated: PG or K+

When he was a child his mother used to preach to him that he would be a prodigy. She told him that he would make her proud. Georg would look up into her aging face and fierce eyes and simply agree. He couldn't do much else.

He started piano lessons when he was five. To most five-year-olds this would be impossible, after all when you're five your brain isn't really developed enough to understand key and time signatures. However, Georg's mother wouldn't take this excuse. She kept him in piano lessons and slowly Georg got better.

Years passed and the word 'prodigy' wasn't just a concept anymore, it was reality. He surpassed most of his teachers and by the age of eleven was composing his own pieces. However, Georg had more to learn, even if he couldn't admit it. Soon a piano teacher, more advanced came to the home of Georg and suddenly piano lessons weren't really about the music anymore.

Who could really blame Georg though? He was a boy, who had been sheltered all his life and was entering puberty. It wasn't his fault that his piano teacher was distracting. She was brilliant, of course, but there was something else that made Georg's mind wander.

She had really perfect breasts.

Sometimes though, when his teacher wasn't there, Georg got to compose on his own. He got to forget all of the trivial things going on at his school and with his friends. He got to forget his well-endowed teacher and he truly _focused_. And when Georg really focused on the music, magical things happened.

On a day in mid-September Georg's mother announced that she would be going on a short trip with his father to visit her sister, who was apparently sick. Georg had been at home alone before, it was nothing to worry about. In fact, he was rather anxious for their departure because when they left he wouldn't have to go to school. Instead he could stay home and play his piano, creating worlds within his musical scale.

His day at home alone proved to be rather successful. He managed to finish a piece of music that had taken him a rather long time. It was complicated, but no too complicated. He quite enjoyed it, but he knew it was not perfect. There was something off about it, something that didn't seem quite right. It was good, yes, but he knew that it could be great.

He scrutinized on his piano bench for the entire day, staring at the notes, wandering what to change. He heard a knocking on his door about a half hour after school let out. He panicked that it would be his professor, coming to see if he truly was sick. However, he had no option, but to answer the door.

He quickly found that it was not his professor, but instead a girl who lived in his town, her name was Anna. She held a large book he recognized as his Latin, but he was confused as to why she would have it.

"Hello Anna," he said unsurely.

"Hello Georg," her syllables were quick and sharp, "I was walking to Thea's house across the way," she said pointing to the dirt road outside Georg's door, "When your friend Otto caught up with me and told me that you needed this Latin book for your homework, as you were absent from class today. He was in a rush somewhere, but I didn't ask where he was going." She shoved the book into Georg's possession.

"Well, thank you Anna," he said ungratefully. He really didn't want to do the Latin assignment without first hearing the class.

He expected her to leave, but she did not. "You don't look sick, why weren't you at your school?"

"I don't believe that's your business," he quipped, a little puzzled at her interest.

"It's not my business, but I'm still curious." There was an interest in her eyes and stubbornness in her voice that made Georg tell her the truth.

"I was finishing a piano piece, so I didn't go to class. You can come in if you want." He motioned her through the door and she gracelessly stepped inside.

"Can I hear it?" she asked Georg.

"My piano piece?"

"Yes."

"Well... I suppose, if you want..." he trailed off, moving towards his piano.

He sat down at his bench and looked at Anna. She had an expectant look on her face that was hard, but not unkind. In her gaze he felt his fingers take a little of her directness and that sprang to life on the keys. The feeling was familiar, but still new. He had never played this piece for someone of his own age, much less a girl. He didn't look at her, but he could feel her eyes on the back of his head and he tried hard to keep his notes perfect. He knew as he played that this was the best it had ever gone and as he finished he expected great praise and maybe even a kiss, like his mother gave him when she was proud.

However, Anna just stared at him and he shrunk into his bench farther.

"Did you like it?" he questioned.

No answer.

"Anna?"

Still she remained silent.

"I know there are some problems, it's not completely right yet, but what did you think?"

Her eyes connected to his and Georg felt, for some reason, anger. Who was she to question his playing? He was a prodigy, one of the best pianists in Germany so why should he let some small-time girl's silence disturb him? As this thought crossed his mind he heard Anna take in a breath.

She walked slowly towards the door and right before leaving she turned to him. He was hopeful that maybe she had been too shocked to react, that maybe it was the best thing she'd ever heard.

"Your piano's sharp."

It was a simple statement on her part and as soon as she announced it, she left.

That's when Georg realized, the problem with his piece had not been the notes or chords, or arrangement. It was the simple fact that his piano was not in tune.

And through this realization Georg wondered how awfully oblivious he had to be to not notice something as simple as the tuning of his piano. He figured that he was just tuned out of life, that or Anna was extremely tuned in.

**A/N**

**There is a lot about this chapter that I like and a lot about it that I don't, so make what you will of it and review- it's so sad to gave more chapters than there are reviews. **

**-Kassie**


	7. 038 Fall

-1Prompt: 038. Fall

Characters: Martha, Thea, mentions of others

Pairing: None

Rated: PG or K+

Thea and Anna were best friends. Well, Thea and Anna were best friends _most _of the time. See, they didn't always get along and they didn't always like each other. Thea was epitome of high maintenance and convention. She liked things the same way her mother liked them. Her life was fine with her. However, Anna was a dreamer. She didn't always want to hear of Thea's small town crushes or gossip to Thea about Hanschen and Ernst. Anna liked to spend her time doing things that mattered. Sure, she loved to gaze at Melchior Gabor, she even liked to talk to Thea about him, but not all the time.

Therefore they fought. The fought _a lot_.

In fact, when Thea's birthday rolled around in mid-July they were in the middle of a fight. Thea wasn't sure why they were fighting, all she knew was that she had begun telling Anna a story about how she saw Hanschen Rilow sneaking towards Ernst's house in the dead of night through her window, when Anna threw a fit and told Thea that, "She had more important things to do than listen to her gossip."

This wasn't the first time that Anna walked out on Thea for being shallow, but Thea always felt like she was missing something when Anna did. Didn't Anna understand that they were supposed to listen to their parents? Didn't she know that it was fun to gossip about boys?

Thea was very disappointed that her birthday occurred when she was fighting with Anna, because this birthday was supposed to be special. It was her thirteenth birthday, not something that came around every day. This year she would be a young woman- why couldn't Anna just get over herself? Thea had already pleaded with her mother to allow her to have one friend spend the night on her birthday, which was something that was rarely allowed. Her mother reluctantly agreed. However, because of the fight Thea wasn't sure who to invite.

She didn't want to invite Wendla. It wasn't that she didn't like Wendla- she did, but Wendla was someone that Thea couldn't outshine. Wendla was nice, quiet, and beautiful. Thea was pretty, but far too loud and often said her opinions a little too bluntly. Wendla made Thea feel like she wasn't good enough. The other girls in town all worshipped Wendla for being so perfect and Wendla always got the attention that Thea wanted.

Eventually Thea decided that she wanted to invite Martha to her party. Martha was a quiet girl and very well behaved. She liked to listen to Thea talk and even though Martha's ideas and opinions were a little crazy to Thea, she generally enjoyed Martha's company.

When Thea asked Martha to spend the night, Martha declined very quickly. She said that her mama and papa would never allow her to spend the night somewhere outside of her home. But Thea wasn't the type of person to handle the word 'no' very well. So Thea asked Martha's parents herself if Martha could spend the night. At first, Thea thought that Martha was right- they didn't seem keen on the idea of having their daughter out of the house, but after a lot of respectful persuasion they agreed to let Martha go.

On the eve of Thea's birthday she was dressed up in her brand new dress that her mama had made for her. It wasn't dirty like her old plaid one had been. It had little pink flowers on a green cloth, her mama had even added lace to make it prettier. Since it was summer the sleeves were short, revealing Thea's slender stick-like arms. She couldn't wait to show the dress to Martha.

Martha arrived right on time, as she always was and Thea greeted her, bouncing at the door. Martha carried a bundle of flowers which she handed to Thea. Although it was nearing one hundred degrees outside, Thea noticed that Martha still wore a dress with long sleeves.

The beginning of the night ran very smoothly for both of the girls. Thea's mother gave them a large dinner and Martha laughed at all of Thea's jokes. As it was getting later the girls went up to Thea's room. They told her mother they were going to bed, but really they were going to talk and laugh about the boys in town. As Thea shut the door she carefully removed her new dress and put on her nightgown. It was a bit too short, but Thea didn't mind. Martha didn't change out of her dress.

"Martha, why don't you put on your nightgown? It's too warm for dresses like yours anyway," Thea's voice was matter-of-fact.

"I'm fine. I like my dress, it's soft," Martha defended.

"Don't be silly, did you forget something to put on? My mama has an old nightgown I'm sure she'd let you borrow." Thea offered.

"No really Thea, I'm fine." Thea, however, had already left the room to get a nightgown.

She returned another minute later and tossed the gown to Martha who held the thin dress in her arms limply. Carefully she turned around and began unbuttoning her dress. She stepped out of it slowly and Thea wondered why it was so hard for the girl to simply change clothes. But as the dress fell to the floor and Thea saw Martha's back she was no longer thinking of why it took so long for Martha to change, instead she was horrified at the welts and bruises on her back.

"Martha!? She exclaimed jumping up, "What happened to you?"

Martha didn't answer, she simply slipped the nightgown over her head and turned to face Thea. There were welts and bruises like the one on Martha's back all up her arms as well. Thea was disgusted.

"Martha? Answer me! How did you get those bruises?"

Martha's answer was simple.

"I fell."

"No one falls that much Martha, something must have happened. Please tell me. Did you meet one of those rascals by the schoolyard that mama always said lurk there?"

"No Thea," Martha's voice was tired, "I just... I... I fall a lot." It took several tries, but it was a clear statement and Thea could tell Martha didn't wish to talk about it.

Thea tried to let the rest of the night pass normally. She tried to ignore the nagging feeling she had that Martha was lying. After all, Martha had no reason to lie. The girls still talked about boys. They still laughed and joked, but both of them knew that Martha was keeping something back.

At some point, not too late in the night, they fell asleep. They were woken by the light coming through Thea's window. Quickly Thea put her day dress on and left the room so that Martha could change alone. Thea went to her breakfast table and pulled two apples from her cabinet. Martha soon joined her and handed her the nightgown she had borrowed. She told Thea that she had to be home soon.

Thea gave Martha the apple and asked if she could walk Martha home. Martha agreed. Their walk was somewhat quiet. Their secrets still lie in the dark of Thea's room. When they arrived at Martha's home, her father answered the door. He beckoned Martha inside and waved goodbye to Thea. As the door closed, Thea heard a muffled noise from the house. She heard a crash and a cry.

And then she knew, Martha had fallen.

Feeling like she was breaking rules Thea walked to the back of Martha's house where she knew the window of her room was. She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and searched the ground for a stick and mud. She eventually found what she needed. She wrote a quick note to Martha, slipped it through the window and ran all the way home.

Later, a beaten down and sore Martha entered her room. She went to the window, gazing longingly at the sky above her and she noticed a slip of paper on her sill. Her father hated messes, she snatched the paper silently and opened it up. In small, girly letters there was a message on the paper:

_You don't just fall, Martha- someone pushes you_.

The thing was, that Thea didn't know how right she was.

**A/N **

**Not my best chapter- I imagined this going better than it did. All of it comes out kind of coincidental. I tried to write it in a different style that I don't think works for me. Oh well, I tried, that's all I can do. See you next chapter, kiddies. **


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